The Key to the Claddagh Heart
by Apollonia Veritas
Summary: The greatest thing Spot and Moira will ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return. But will they ever win?
1. An Offer She Can't Refuse

Disclaimer: The Usual Suspects, as always, belong to Disney and whatnot;

Title: homage to _The Godfather_, of course.

An Offer She Can't Refuse

Moira Scarlet O'Flaherty walked into Tibby's Restaurant and sat in a booth. She sat and waited for her friend that she was meeting there that day for lunch. As she glanced at the clock, she noticed she was ten minutes early, a rarity for her, and decided to check her reflection. Opening up her compact, she was met by her green-gray eyes, never completely one color or the other. Her hair was a medium brown, thick with curls and reddish-gold highlights when the sun caught it, and she had a figure that worked great for her chosen profession. She had moved to Brooklyn from Ireland at the age of seven, and now about ten years later, had a job of a singer at a hall owned by a friend of her mother's, Medda Larkson. Medda was very close to Moira, having been the first person her mother and she had known when moving to America, and in the past year when Moira's mother died, Medda had become a second mother to her. Medda was the only family Moira had left. Moira closed her compact and fixed the bodice of her dress. It was an all white dress, a bit lacy, form-fitting, and low cut, but Moira found this also was one way to get ahead in her career choice.

"Excuse me Miss, but uh, is this seat already taken?" asked a smiling tall young man, who had brown hair, laughing brown eyes and a thick New York accent.

"Jack Kelly! I haven't seen you in ages! How are you doing?" she exclaimed, jumping up to hug him. In the ten years she had lived in New York City, she hadn't really picked up the accent, though she was known to fake it for the richies that came to Medda's. She could never figure out why the upper class had such a thing for slumming it.

"I been doing pretty good, after the strike, people's been buying me papes more," he said, looking at her. "And look at you! I've heard about the new and very charming little brunette at Medda's, Miss O'Flaherty," Jack teased her. "You better watch out. I got enough to do without chasing the bums away from ya."

"I'm sixteen, nearly seventeen, Jacky. You don't have to worry about me anymore," Moira laughed, knowing he thought she looked a little provocative. He had always been slightly overprotective of her. His father was a friend of Medda's for as long as Moira had been here, and probably longer. Jack laughed.

"That's the whole reason I'm worried, Scarlett," he said, calling her by her middle name and nickname. When they were younger, her temper had the habit of getting the better of her, Moira's mother would say, "My goodness Moira, a temper as scarlet as your middle name!" in her musical Irish accent, and it would usually make Moira calm down and laugh. They both laughed, sitting down in the booth again.

"So how's you've been yourself? The job going okay? Nobody's getting fresh with ya, are they?" Jack asked as they ordered lunch. Moira gave him a pointed look.

"No, don't worry, they know they'll get fired by Medda and then soaked by the famous Jack Kelly," she drawled sarcastically, smirking a bit. Moira had wanted to sing and dance on stage for as long as she could remember, and after a year of being a cigarette girl and cocktail waitress, she was getting a shot at it tonight. She was a bit more nervous about it than she let on.

"Good, good. You've made me real proud, Moira, and I knows your mother probably would be feeling the same," Jack said quietly, patting her hand. Moira was quiet. She missed her mother so much, and Jack knew exactly how she felt because his mother had been dead before he could remember her and had looked at her mother almost as his own.

"So, why did you ask me to come meet you here for lunch? Do you need money?" asked Moira, knowing he had a favor to ask her, smiling expectantly.

"Moira Scarlett O'Flaherty! How can you accuse me of just asking you to lunch just so I can get money? Is that what you think I am; a lousy bum? I just wanted to see one of my oldest and dearest friends," said Jack, pretending to be offended, but Moira could see the smile in his eyes.

"Jack, you know that all you gotta do is go down to Medda's to see me, and my apartment's only in Brooklyn anyways. C'mon, don't try to pull anything on me, what do you need?" she laughed.

"Well, now that you mention it, Scarlett," he started, "I've got an offer for you. Ya see, there's this one newsie, he's one of my old friends, Spot Conlon. You might have heard of him, he's the leader of the Brooklyn. But lately, Spotty-boy's ego has gone up quite a few notches, and it's pretty big enough to begin with, and all we other newsies ain't liking it. Me and the boys have been thinking, and you know what's the biggest thing Spot's full of himself about? The women. He's got at least half the female population chasing him, and already been with the other, and he knows it. So I'm sitting here in this very restaurant, with my boys Race and Blink, and it comes over me. What if, for once in his life, Spot was the one chasing the girl? It would kill 'im! So I'm thinking as hard as I can, and what girl do I know who's quite a looker, has an attitude I know will drive Spot crazy, completely irresistible, sweet, generous, kind, always thinking of others, and I trust my secrets with? And you know who I come up with, Moira?"

"Who, Jack?" Moira said, rolling her eyes. She knew what was coming.

"You, of course!" Jack laughed. "So, the question is, would you be willing to pull this off? It would mean a lot to me and the boys if ya would, please, Spot is really getting unbearable!" She sighed.

"As you're my brother almost, Jack Kelly, I guess I will. What exactly am I doing, though?"

"All's you gotta do, is get Spot to fall head over heels for ya, and then break his heart!" he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world to do. Moira sighed.

"Sure Jack, because that's as easy as falling off a log. I'm not so sure. That's playing with serious fire-not to mention it's not right," Moira said hesitantly. "I can understand a little flirting and then shutting him down in the lowest way possible, but actually break his heart? That's a lot of work right there." Working at Medda's, of course she flirted around for a nice tip. She'd had her share of boyfriends and flings, but refused to settle down. Why should she be in love with one person when the whole world was in love with her? There were already too many guys at Irving Hall begging for a piece. Letting boys fall in love with you was one thing, but when you're in a relationship with one when he loves you could be lethal. Not only that, but... "Besides, I know when you say leader of Brooklyn, you just don't mean the newsies. You forget I live in Brooklyn, Kelly, and I know about the underground. I have my own little birds filling me in on the latest happenings around town. Is _this_ really the kind of boy you'd want me getting involved with?" she asked cynically.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I'm sure," Jacke answered evasively.

"Uh-huh. I'm not so sure..."

"Trust me, you meet this boy, you will want to do this...I've never known you to walk away from a challenge, and this kid would be fun for you to sharpen your claws on," Jack wheedled coaxingly. Moira quirked a brow at him.

"You know, for a guy who threatens to beat the hell out of any guy who gets fresh with me, you certainly don't min my minipulation of the male psyche when it suits your needs.

"Aw, c'mon Moira. Think of it like a joke on Spot! It'll be fun, a good time!"

"Well, okay. I guess I will. But we can't do this too long to him, all right?" Moira conditioned.

"Yeah, yeah. Now tonight, you've gotta meet Race and Kid Blink, cause they said they wanted to meet the girl I found, so where can we meet ya?" he asked.

"Come to Medda's tonight. I'm singing, and I'll meet them after the show," Moira suggested.

"Okay. Sounds good, we'll see ya there. Besides, tonight's ya's first night singing, I wouldn't miss it for the world," Jack said, getting up, grinning at her. "Well, I gotta get back to work, so I'll see you tonight. Thank you Scarlett, this means a lot to me and the boys!" he added, giving Moira a hug and a friendly kiss on the cheek as they left.


	2. Sending Out an SOS

Disclaimer: I should probably be less general about these things, but I'm a lazy chappette. So Disney owns most of this, except my characters. And parts of the plot.

Chapter Title: "Message in a Bottle" by the Police. Kind of what I was hearing in my head as I re-wrote this.

Sending out an S.O.S.

Over in Brooklyn, Spot Conlon looked out over the bay, sitting on a dock post, watching the sun as it set, a tight grip on his gold-tipped cane. His bluish-gray eyes reflected the waves below, and his sandy hair ran to about his ears. He was a good-looking guy, and he knew it; that, and the fact that many girls in New York were crazy about him. This, he was pondering on; as he was as of late finding it more of a curse than a blessing. Spot's problem _was_ not being to find the right girl, but not in the conventional manner. He was starting to believe that all girls were the same, despite the "every snowflake being different" theory most guys trusted, and didn't think he was ever going to find that perfect girl; fast, cheap, and as willing to allow him to run around no questions asked. Was there a reason no girl could let him be himself?

"Hey-hey, Spot!" called up Mickey, one of Spot's fellow Brooklyn newsies, who had golden hair and blue eyes, making him look younger than he actually was.

"What?" said Spot, turning to his friend swimming in the bay below with the others.

"There's a concert tonight at Medda's, and we're all thinking of going," said Bricks, a newsie with red hair with a hint of brown in it and brown eyes. "Do you wanna come with us?"

"Yeah," Spot answered.

"you gonna meet up with a girl there, Spotty-boy?" asked Mickey, climbing up on the dock out of the water.

"No, is there a reason you're be asking?" snapped Spot defensively, his brows narrowed. He didn't like it when people called him "Spotty-boy" and he only tolerated his close friends doing that.

_"No__,_ I just thought--"

"Well don't think so hard next time, then." Mickey and Bricks looked at each other. Spot usually wasn't this defensive over a simple question they asked anytime they went out. Spot also hadn't been going out to the concerts at Medda's, and they knew Spot hated to miss those. They were wondering what had gotten into him lately, going around even more surly than usual, and not even dating as often. The only time they'd seen him behaving normally was around Jack and his newsies, and that was because he was lying about how many women he'd been out with recently. Bricks and Mickey were getting worried; Manhattan was getting aggravated with Spot, and Jack was Spot's best friend. Screwing up their connection with Manhattan wouldn't be a smart move at this point in their current and newfound business transactions.

"Well, we're going back to the lodging house to get ready; the show starts in an hour," Bricks told him, deciding to ignore Spot's abrasive manner. "You coming?"

"Yeah, yeah," Spot said sullenly. He looked at the sunset for a second more, shook his head, and followed Bricks and Mickey quietly back to the lodging house.


	3. The Girl All the Boys Wanna Dance With

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies.

Chapter Title: Fall Out Boy's "A 'Little Less Sixteen Candles,' A Little More 'Touch Me'." Not going to lie to you, that song will be showing up a bit. I think it fits to this little tale quite nicely.

Oh, and also, there's Patsy Smythe's "Warrior," Madonna's "Dress You Up in My Love," and Kelly Clarkson's "I Do Not Hook Up."

The Girl all the Boys Wanna Dance With...

"Come in," Moira called at the knock at her dressing room door, clipping up the last curl, and placing her headband with its matching feather around her head. She was in her costume, a deep green satin bodice, somewhat low-cut and made her look bustier (which would make an excellent chin rest later when she was exhausted), and trimmed with black lace. The skirt, which really was more of a row of short ruffles around her waist, was a little longer in the back, abd in two parts, like the tails on a gentleman's coat falling to the back of her knees. Moira adjusted her garter, which was the same green and edged with black lace. Her shoes, black high heels with ankle straps, gave her at least four inches to her short height of five feet three. Medda burst in, immediately fussing with Moira's hair and inspecting her make up.

"Aw, honey, you look beautiful! You are going to knock 'em dead tonight, especially when you start singing," said Medda, giving Moira a hug of reassurance.

"Well, let's get this over with," Moira said briskly. She followed Medda to backstage, waited as Medda introduced her, and got in position as the curtains went up. She looked out at the sea of faces, and was nervous for a second until she saw Jack watching her proudly. All nervousness left her, and the music started. Singing "Warrior", she projected her voice and was fantastic.

Medda watched Moira enjoying herself immensely as the crowd cheered her. She'd been about Moira's age when she had landed in this business herself, and it had been quite a while since she had taken a break from headlining on a show, weeknight or not. Although she was worried that she would miss the limelight herself, she found herself realizing the opportunity that lay within Moira; bringing in more girls Moira's age, which would bring in a younger crowd, a bigger crowd--and more money. Always the opportunist, Medda's mind started calculating the figures necessary to find the biggest profit. Humming along to Moira's song, she waltzed off to her office.

Moira was having the time of her life in the spotlight. She smiled flirtily and winked at the boys from the stage, playing to them. Everything Medda taught her came much more naturally when there was a real audience. She caught Jack's eye, and he gave her a wary that she laughed at during the next pause. She gazed around the crowd, and drew in a big breath. She had just seen the most gorgeous boy she was sure she would ever see in her life. He had blondish-brown hair, and dreamy blue-gray eyes. She could tell he was a newsie. He wore a collared blue shirt and brown pants, with red suspenders, and Moira was sure he must have been from Brooklyn because of the slingshot in his back pocket. He also had a cane, tipped with gold, and the way he held onto it, she could tell he rarely let it out of his sight. He was watching her with a devilish look in his eye, but oddly, she felt he was someone she could trust, like there was more to him then met the eye. Quickly remembering her cue, she started singing again just in time. She looked back, winked at him, and saw him blink, his eyebrows raised. This boy was intriguing, no doubt. Finally, the song was over. There was a short ten-minute intermission before she would sing again, and she went down to talk to Jack.

Back at his table, Jack turned to Race and Kid Blink.

"So, boys, what you think? She good enough for Spot?" he asked, trying not to laugh at the looks on Blink's and Race's faces.

"Jack, _where_ did you find her? And _where_ can I get one?" asked Blink, a newsie with blond hair and blue eyes, although one was covered with a patch, with his mouth wide open.

"Jacky, Jacky, nah, nah, she ain't right for that at all," said Race, a dark-haired and eyed Italian boy in a choked voice.

"What do you mean--"

"Because, I want her!" Race laughed. "Are you kidding, she's perfect! I only wish I met her sooner. Some kinda pal _you _are," he added pointedly, grinning at Jack.

"You just better watch yourselves around her. I look at that girl as my sister, and I don't want nothing happening to her, understand?"

"Yeah Cowboy, you know we wouldn't pull that stuff, right Race?" said Blink, laughing at Jack's protectiveness.

"You know it. We'll treat her as good as you do." Just then Moira walked up to the table.

"Moira! Scarlett, you was great!" exclaimed Jack giving her a hug. She sat down at the table with them. "Moira, I'd like you to meet Kid Blink"--they shook hands and he winked at her-- "and Race." Race took her hand, and kissed it. Moira blushed.

"Aw, Miss Scarlett, I've seemed to prove you to your name," teased Race.

"Well, around two such charming gentlemen, I don't see how you couldn't," she flirted back. Blink and Race grinned, unwillingly blushing themselves now. Jack coughed, rolling his eyes. He could only take so much. True, they were among his closest friends, but he didn't quite understand how they turned into such numbskulls around any skirt.

"Ahem, Moira, please," Jack said quietly, looking down at the table to hide his laughing.

"Oh, don't be so protective, Jacky-boy. I'm big girl now, aren't I, boys?" she laughed, jutting her hips ever so nonchalantly, if that was possible.

"Um, yeah," Blink said as Race nodded.

"So how are you boys doing tonight? Enjoying the show?" Moira asked them, crossing her legs tightly and leaning her elbows on the table towards them, resting her chin on her hands. She felt trampy doing this in front of Jack, but it was all just fun. She would have to do this soon enough for that one guy anyway they were asking her to "devastate," so what was the harm in practice? Besides, the hall didn't offer so much in the way of cute, young boys to flirt with; there were too many nights she was stuck catering to men old enought to be her father, and it was nice to have a minute around boys her own age. Not that she'd be willing to share that bit with Jack. Jack coughed again.

"I'm sorry boys; let me refine myself. How do you...do?" She smiled innocently at them. Kid Blink was speechless.

"I do good..." stuttered Race, then turned red, realizing what it sounded like.

"Watch it Race..." warned Jack softly. Moira placed her hand on Jack's arm.

"No Jack, I asked him how he does, and he told me. I always wanna know just how..._good_ a man does," she laughed sweetly, winking at Race. He grinned back.

"You know, we could forget the whole Conlon deal, and I could _really_ show you a _good_ time," he offered smoothly.

"All right, yeah, talking about Conlon," Blink interjected hastily, seeing Jack didn't look so happy about Race flirting with Moira.

"Are you gonna do it?" Jack asked impatiently. "Have you made up your mind?"

"Yeah Jacky, I'll do it. You owe me for this though," Moira said, taking the cigarette out of Jack's hand and taking a hit off it, not really paying any attention to what they were talking about as she and Jack shook hands. In truth, she had not given it a second thought since they had been at the restaurant. Come to think of it, she didn't even really remember the guy's name. Jack took the cigarette back, giving her a reproachful look.

"Anything you want, Princess," said Race. Jack closed his eyes and shook his head but he laughed. Moira gave him a smile, and stood up.

"Well boys, it's been a pleasure, but I gotta go sing again, so if you'll excuse me..."she smiled and waved to them as she left.

"Well Jack, you were right, she's perfect!" said Blink.

"Yeah, we've got Spotty-boy this time," laughed Race. Jack nodded, smiling. At the same time, he was slightly worried. As flirty and determined to stay unattached as Moira was, Spot had that strange ability to make girls change to fit his needs. He wasn't too worried, but all the same, he still hoped she would be able to stick to her guns. Then the lights went low again, and Moira was out on stage again.

Moira took a deep breath and started singing one of her favorite songs, "Dress You Up in my Love." This was a song she was supposed to move through the crowd during. As the intro music started, she moved towards Jack, Race's and Blink's table, and clinging to Blink, then Race as she sang the first verse. She then moved away as she sang the chorus, and during the instrumental parts, moved towards the table of the boy she had seen before that had given her the devilish look. He watched her come closer with an almost bored look, then almost confused for a split second, and went back to bored.

"Feel the silky touch of my caresses...they will keep you looking so brand new..." she knelt close to him, half-embracing him almost.

"Let me cover you with velvet kisses...I'll create a look that's made for you..."Moira had her face very close to his, sitting in his lap, staring right into those blue-gray eyes. There was something angry, and hurt in them, yet curious at the same time, like a little boy's...it made her curious. As she sang the chorus, she pulled him up with her, and had him dance with her. He surprised her by being able to keep the beat, and everyone was going wild. She laughed as she looked at the boy. He held her very close, and she wondered if he could feel her heart beating as fast as it was.

"Jesus, would be Spot who gets a piece of that!" Moira heard a blond boy who had been sitting beside boy yell to somone else. Spot? Why did that name sound familiar? Moira knew she would have remembered ever meeting _this_ boy, even though the way he held her seemed familiar. She danced with him through the whole song, and then the song ended and they broke apart.

"You're a good dancer," the boy commented amusedly, looking her up and down openly. She put her hands on her hips in a cute little pose, and tilted her chin at him.

"You too," she said, winking, tossing her head and walking back up to the stage. She had one more song to sing

"Oh, sweetheart, put the bottle down; you've got too much talent! I see you through those bloodshot eyes; there's a cure, you've found it! Slow motion, sparks, you caught that chill, now, don't deny it. But boys will be boys, oh yes they will! They don't want to define it. Just give up the game and get into me; if you're looking for thrills, then get cold feet! Oh, no, I don't hook up, up! I go slow. So if you want me, I don't come cheap; keep your hand in my hand and your heart on your sleeve! Oh, no, I do not hook up, up! I fall deep! 'Cause the more that you try the harder I'll fight to say…Goodnight!"

Spot watched the girl. What was her name, Mary, Mariah? He turned to Mickey and Bricks.

"What's this dame's name again?"

"Moira Scarlett O'Flaherty. Ain't she a looker?" said Bricks, grinning as he watched her.

"You're a lucky one, Spotty-boy, I thinks she likes ya," laughed Mickey.

"You know I don't like that name," Spot laughed, punching him jokingly. Mickey and Bricks looked at Spot oddly.

"What?" he asked them, noticing the stares.

"You hasn't laughed in a long time, Spot," Mickey said looking at him skeptically.

"And you seem to be enjoying yourself a lot here tonight," Bricks added knowingly.

"You're starting to get ideas about this girl?" asked Mickey, watching him carefully.

"And if I am? She's probably easier than all of the others girls I date anyways. I could get her easy, and keep her around as long as I wanted," Spot smirked. That wasn't exactly how he felt on the inside. Sure, she'd probably get in bed as quickly as he would, judging by the way she was so outrageously forward, but she'd probably want to move on as quickly as he did. He had a feeling he had met his match with this girl, and that scared him a little; he'd never met girls like this. For as miserable as Spot was with the girls he usually ran around with, he was smart enough to realize their flaws made things much easier for him. Maybe the weak women got boring quickly, but a smart girl would catch onto his games—and he didn't want or need to put up with that. It also seemed that she knew exactly what every guy at Irving Hall that night thought about her, and she didn't care, or maybe she even liked it. It was intriguing…or ensnaring. He shook his head. He didn't want a girl like that; she'd be too challenging.

"I can't cook, no, but I can clean—up the mess she left. Lay you head down and feel the beat, as I kiss your forehead. This may not last but this is now; so love the one you're with. You wann chase, but you're chasing your tail; a quick fix won't ever get you well! Oh, no, I don't hook up, up! I go slow. So if you want me, I don't come cheap; keep your hand in my hand and your heart on your sleeve! Oh, no, I do not hook up, up! I fall deep! 'Cause the more that you try the harder I'll fight to say…'Cause I feel…the distance…between us…could be over…with a snap of your fingers! Oh, oh no! Oh, no, I don't hook up, up! I go slow. So if you want me, I don't come cheap; keep your hand in my hand and your heart on your sleeve! Oh, no, I do not hook up, up! I fall deep! 'Cause the more that you try the harder I'll fight to say…Goodnight! Oh sweetheart, put the bottle down…'Cause you don't wanna miss out…"Moira sang her heart out. She looked innocently at the boy, flirting from far away, batting her eyelashes and dancing with a hint more mmph than she would have had he not been watching. She liked the way he looked at her.

Mickey and Bricks looked at Spot and laughed.

"And what, may I ask, is so funny?" asked Spot defensively.

"We was thinking 'bout what ya just said. You couldn't keep a girl for more than a week," snickered Bricks.

"A month would be impossible for you, Spot!" Mickey chuckled.

"Boys, you don't know what you're talking 'bout. The girls I've been with are never worth keeping," Spot said plainly.

"So you're saying this one is?" asked Mickey cockily.

"I didn't say that," said Spot defiantly, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, cocking his head at them. Bricks and Mickey cast each other sideways looks.

"He does," they said in unison.

"Hey fellas; fellas, so maybe I don't choose ladies on the grounds of…well anything more than a quick one," Spot defended himself weakly. "That don't mean I never will. And it don't mean this girl is the exception to my rule. As far as I'm concerned, she's probably just a equal participant in the 'moving on' part."

"Yeah, right," snickered Mickey.

"Then how's 'bout we make a little bet," proposed Bricks.

"Depending on what the bet's on," conditioned Spot.

"Okay. We're betting you can't get this girl, and stick with her and no one else for a month," dared Mickey, with Bricks nodding. Spot laughed, but he hadn't missed the scrutinizing stare in Bricks's eyes; the one that could usually call when Spot was bluffing in anything from poker to women.

"Please, boys, you're insulting me, thinking I can't pull off an easy thing like that," he said arrogantly.

"With you, Spot, don't talk too soon," warned Bricks. "She's like another you. She'll probably break up with you first!"

"Yeah, not to mention who looks like he's very close to her…" said Mickey, pointing over to where Jack was sitting. Spot turned and looked, and saw that Moira was giving Jack a big hug.

"That's some pretty dangerous territory you're be going into there, Spotty," smirked Bricks as Spot gave him a dirty look. "I wouldn't say they're a couple yet, but they're looking pretty close."

"If you wanna back out now, we understand," said Mickey, smugly. They knew that there was no chance in hell Spot would back down now.

"Boys, boys, be realistic. Not only will I get with her and stick with her for a month, I will have her in love with me, and then I'll break her little heart," laughed Spot confidently, turning back to them. He spit in his hand and held it out to Mickey, and they shook, and then repeated the ritual with Bricks.

"Looks like you got your work cut out for ya, Spotty," snickered Bricks, nodding to where Jack and Moira were. Spot turned again, and saw Racetrack Higgins with his arm around Moira's waist, holding her tightly. Spot felt a twinge of...what? Jealousy? Hardly. The infamous leader of Brooklyn jealous of anyone? Bricks watched him, wondering the same thing.

"Well, why don't we go meet my new challenge," Spot suggested, standing up, and walking over with Bricks and Mickey to the Manhattan boys' table.


	4. The Boy Who's Had Too Many Chances

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies. I've also stopped being creative.

Chapter Title: Again, FOB's "A Little Less 'Sixteen Candles,' A Little More 'Touch Me." Told you so!

The Boy Who's Had Too Many Chances

"Moira Scarlett! I'm so proud!" Jack said, giving her a hug, and then holding her face in his hands. Moira laughed.

"I wasn't that great, I coulda done better," said Moira modestly, shrugging flippantly, tucking a few bills from her garter down her front.

"Aw, c'mon Scarlett, you gotta do that in front of me?" Jack whined, earning a smack on his arm from Moira.

"Oh, grow up Jacky. Your friends can recognize I'm not a little girl anymore; you should get with the program," she teased. Race put his arm around her waist.

"Sweetheart, you knows you did good as you look, don't be modest," he said, grinning at her. She blinked shyly in a teasing way, and they both laughed.

"Race, don't you think you should give Moira some breathing room?" said Jack pointedly.

"Now hold on, Cowboy, look who's coming over," Race reasoned, nodding behind Jack. Jack turned to see none other than Spot Conlon walking over with a few of his boys.

"By the way, Princess, good job starting in with Spot. Did you know that was him you was dancing with? You're gonna get him for sure, hands down, I saw the way he was looking at you! We got him good, boys!" laughed Race.

"I wouldn't count my eggs, yet, Race; you know Spot can look at ten girls that way in the same minute," Jack said.

"You got no faith, Kelly, and you're even the one who picked the girl!" Blink told him. Moira, however, was confused.

"What do you mean, I was dancing with Spot? _That_ is the one who I'm supposed to screw with?" she said, not believing what she was hearing, and wondering if this was good luck or bad. Sure he was the best-looking guy she'd seen in a long time, but he was obviously only looking for one thing and he'd probably think she'd give it to him. As much as she had a steady line of admirers, she was really picky and relied heavily on boudaries. Now that she'd already had the chance to size him up, she could give a most likely accurate prediction: he was going to be hard to settle down and even harder to keep, and that meant twice the work for her, if she was able to keep him interested in only her. Unfortunately, half of Moira wanted to play it out for the sole reason of a respectable notch to her name, and the other half was still trying to convince her to refuse to do it, before she caused any damage. "_Oh, who am I kidding? They say he's got half of New York after him,_" she thought. What was making her think she could get him in the first place? And another thing, why did she care about his stupid womanizing feelings? She had shared a dance where they had spoken less than one sentence each to each other, and he'd probably thought she was a whore as much as the other guys did. She hadn't even known his name at the time. Deep down, something clawed at her, screaming up to her that she should just get out now and burn the bridge behind her. But she couldn't back out now. It was too late. She told her conscience to take a hike.

"Just be your charming self, Scarlett," Jack said, grinning at her confidently, mistaking her disappointment for nerves. Spot walked up to them and spit shook with Jack.

"Hey, Jacky old man, how's it going? Bricks, Mickey and me thought we'd stop by to say hi. Haven't talked to you for a while," Spot said casually.

"Not so bad, Spotty-boy," Jack answered, eyes laughing. Moira caught the flash of anger in Spot's eye as Jack called him "Spotty-boy." She watched Spot carefully, but narrowed in particularly on his eyes. The ocean on a winter day, maybe, or the pond in the park, iced over on the first freezing night in November. But other times, like when he was watching her, they were soft, the same color as the sky in the summer, or her favorite blanket her mother had made for her so many years ago. Again, the claws grated on her subconscious, but she was still unable to decipher whatever it was her intuition had caught onto that she hadn't. As Spot turned his stare on her, Moira quickly switched her expression to that of a wide eyed innocent ingenue. Gets them every time.

"Tell me please, Jacky, who is your enchanting lady friend?" Spot said, somewhat coolly for a compliment. The look in his eye was not the one of the curious little boy anymore, but more of the devilish look again, Moira noticed.

"This would be Miss Moira Scarlett O'Flaherty, Spot. Moira, this is Spot Conlon," said Jack.

"You've probably heard of me, I'm the leader of the Brooklyn Newsies," Spot said egotistically. Moira stepped forward, holding out her hand, smiling seductively. Spot took it and kissed her knuckles, then the back of her hand, then her wrist, and would have continued if Jack hadn't cut in, though never breaking his eye contact with her.

"Keep in line, Spot, this is a lady, not one of your girls," warned Jack.

"_Really_, Jack? What happened to Sarah? I thought you two was serious or something?" asked Spot mockingly, finally sparing Jack a glance. "See how that always works out," he added to Bricks and Mickey. Moira tried to repress her smile. How bad _could_ he be if he didn't like Sarah?

"Sarah and I have something you will never have," Jack started angrily, then caught himself, and added, "Scarlett here is like my younger sister."

"Scarlett, huh," Spot said, a slightly impish smile coming across his face as he took a drag off his cigarette thoughtfully. The name sounded vaguely familiar. Probably the same name of some other dame he used to date. Beat the hell out of him to remember; they all started running together as of lately. "You as "Scarlett" as your name?" he added, meaning the name "Scarlett" differently than when Race teased her. "This boy has got a lot of nerve,"h she thought, half the points Spot won for the Sarah comment erased. But something about the way he said it made her smile. Moira noticed Jack was about to say something, so she broke in quickly, resting a warning hand on Jack's chest.

"Only when charming young men like you provoke me," she said, batting her lashes a little, coming closer to him. Jack took a step back and struck up a conversation with the other boys, giving Moira a minute to spar verbally with Spot in private.

"Well, Miss Moira Scarlett, it seems as though we could have some real fun together," said Spot mischievously, also stepping closer.

"Did I mention I live in Brooklyn myself? My _own_ apartment...?" Moira added, closing the small gap between them, lowering her eyelids and tilting her chin.

"No, you didn't," Spot said with no emotion to his voice or his eyes, not sure what to say.

"It's great for privacy," she added demurely, her suggestive glances anything but. Spot faltered, losing the repartee completely. He had always been able to turn any girl to a puddle of swoon with innuendic flirting, not let himself become as subdued as a admonished dog. Though it was different and he had to work a little harder, the only reason he was working so hard was for that bet...and maybe because this girl might give it up by the end of the night. Already she was doing unexpected things and tripping him up, and she was actually starting to get on his nerves. He cursed himself for letting himself get this frustrated about the girl, especially since combining all the time he had spent with her so far, it had equaled up to five minutes, tops. "_Do you want to go insane_?" he thought silently. "_You have go a whole month, and already you're falling all over yourself. Get a grip, and take control_."

"You will have to come visit me sometime," Moira flirted, holding one of his hands in both of hers and squeezing it tightly. Spot looked nonchalantly at her, cocking his head.

"Yeah, I will, won't I?" smirked Spot, out rightly surveying her body. Moira wanted to roll her eyes. You'd think at least one boy would try something different, especially the one who was supposed to be the best at it. She hoped this boredom wouldn't last too long.

"Well boys, why don't I go change, and we can go to Tibby's like we planned," Moira said in an airy voice, stepping back from Spot and turning to Jack and Race.

"Alright, we will be waiting outside for you," said Race.

"Maybe we'll meet you there," Spot added, collected once again.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Conlon," drawled Moira lazily, turning to leave.

"Oh, but I'm sure the pleasure's all mine," Spot responded smoothly. She left to go backstage to her dressing room, and Jack and Race walked towards the nearest exit.

"Well, she pulled a very convincing act," said Race, slightly surprised.

"Yeah, she's a classic," laughed Jack. "Spotty looked blown away!"

"Well, he's got this coming to him." Just then, Kid Blink sauntered over to them from talking to Mush, Crutchy, and a few other newsies, which was where he had been during Moira and Spot's formal "introduction."

"So boys, did I miss anything?" he asked seriously. Jack and Race just laughed.

Meanwhile back at the table where Spot, Bricks, and Mickey were still standing, Bricks shook his head and Mickey laughed.

"Whoo!" breathed out Bricks.

"She's a feisty little lady, there Spot! You sure you can handle her?" snorted Mickey.

"Ah, but you forget who you're talking to," Spot shot back disdainfully.

"We'll see in a month, Spot. Remember, you also said you're gonna break her heart."

"Good as done, boys, good as done," Spot said confidently. They turned and walked out of the hall, Spot behind them. He bit his lip. There was something deep inside that told him it wasn't going to be as easy as usual. It was either deep inside of him, or those eyes. Those green-gray eyes that had reminded him of a girl he had met not so long ago...


	5. The Way We Are, The Way We Were

Usual Disclaimer.

Chapter title: All-American Rejects' "Time Stands Still"

The Way We Are, The Way We Were

It was the summer of 1892. A short girl about ten years old was down at the Brooklyn docks, playing on the pier with five other children, one young boy in particular, because he was the only one her own age, although it was more of them fighting than actually getting along. He had been teasing her by pulling her curls because it amused him to see them bounce like springs, but now he was pulling too hard.

"Stop it, stop it, _stop_ _it_!" the girl yelled.

"Oh, don't be such a baby," the boy smirked. He pulled another curl hard. Unfortunately, he wasn't aware this wasn't a girl like the subservient ones he knew She pushed the boy right off the pier into the chilly water below.

"Hey! You and your red temper are gonna be sorry now!" the boy yelled, glaring up at her. She sighed, her conscience getting the better of her.

"I'm sorry," the girl said apologetically. She lay down on the dock, and reached out her hand. He wasn't that far down. He reached up to her, and as soon as her hand grasped his, he pulled her down in the water with him.

"Hey!" she shouted after breaking the water.

"I told you that you'd be sorry," he said, his smirk back on his face. They swam right next to each other, barely being able to touch the bottom, glaring at each other blue-gray eyes to green-gray. Then the boy's glare softened.

"You're not so bad for a girl," he said. "But I bet I can swim faster than you!"

"Can not!" argued she.

"Prove it," he dared. "We'll race right now, c'mon." They spent the rest of the day together, bickering and chattering. It was late afternoon when they were sitting on the sandy banks under the dock. The girl sifted her hands through the sand, and her hand closed over something. She picked it up and dusted it off. It was an old-fashioned silver key, with a silver ring caught on it. The girl carefully pulled them apart and tried on the ring, but it didn't fit.

"What's that?" asked her friend. She passed him the ring.

"Here, the ring doesn't fit my hand, you can have it." He looked closely at it. It was a Claddagh heart ring, he noticed. He remembered his grandmother had one. The girl showed the boy the key.

"Hey, that's pretty neat," he commented, handing it back to her. The girl pocketed it in her apron pocket and stood up.

"I gotta go home now," the girl said.

"I gotta get back to my lodging house myself," said the boy.

"Don't you have any parents?" asked she.

"No, they're dead," he replied evenly.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" the girl said. "Well...why don't you come to my house for dinner?" she added brightly, still young and naive enough to believe anything could be fixed by a good meal or your mother kissing you better.

"I'd like that a lot," he answered, eyes lighting up at the idea of a hot (and free) meal. They got out of the water, and they started making their ways through the alleys and streets, dodging carriages and horses as they went and laughing.

Turning down a darker alley, the young girl realized she didn't know where she was.

"Um...we're lost," she said, trying to keep a collected face, but obviously nervous.

"It's okay, here, hold my hand," the boy said, offering his hand to reassure her. She took it and they continued down the alley, passing a man sitting on a pile of crates.

"You kids shouldn't be hanging around here," he said in an alcohol-drenched voice, climbing down from his seat. Although the boy started moving faster, the man was able to grab the girl away by her arm. She screamed, then silenced as he threatened her with the knife he pulled out. The boy held up his hands.

"We don't have any money; we're just kids," he pleaded. "Please let her go!" The man threw his head back and laughed drunkenly.

"Let her go or I'll kill you!" the boy yelled, causing the man to only laugh more. But in his laughter, the boy kicked him in an area he knew to be highly sensitive to the male gender, and when the man went down, the boy grabbed the girl and made a run for it. Despite her whimpering, he didn't stop running, practically dragging her to help her keep up with him. He randomly zigged and zagged around corners, barely taking glimpses behind them to check for followers. Traffic was so heavy, he doubted the drunk could see them, much less keep up.

"I know where I am now!" she exclaimed, relieved to recognize her surroundings.

"Well, you run home, we have to split up now, it's not safe," the boy told her.

"But...you were gonna come to dinner!" the girl said sadly.

"I _will_; we'll find each other again, I promise!" he swore to her. "And you know what? I love you. So when we meet again, I'm gonna marry you!" he promised, pulling her closer and kissing the girl gently on the lips, quickly.

"Wait," the girl stopped him. She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out the key, and asked him for a string. He was able to find a cord in his pocket, and she put the key on the cord and placed it around his neck.

"You sure you want me to have this?" he asked, looking from her to the key. She nodded. The boy took the ring out of his pocket and looked at it.

"Claddagh heart," he murmured, remembering his grandmother and what she had told him about it. The girl watched him.

"What?" she asked, confused. He put the ring on her chain, and she looked at her own new necklace. The girl looked up at him. She noticed his eyes were warmer than when she had met him.

"When you look for me, remember, I'll be wearing this ring round my neck. Maybe on my hand if my hand gets bigger, but look at it good, just in case we don't see each other soon enough," she told him.

"My grandmother had one of these. It's a Claddagh heart. She told me it's a token of true love, and if I ever give a girl one, I have got to be in love; no takesies-backsies, no nothing," he told her softly. No takesies-backsies? Must be serious.

"And...you're giving this to me," she said uncertainly, and he nodded fervently.

"I love you, I promise! Now go, before that lousy bum comes back!" he told her sadly and kissed her one last time on the cheek. He watched her run off, and then started running a different direction to the lodging house. When the girl arrived home, she was out of breath. Her mother walked in and saw her tired out.

"Honey, what's wrong?" she asked concerned.

"I just ran home. I met a boy, Mom, and he says he's gonna marry me next time he sees me!" the girl answered happily. Her mother laughed.

"Sweetheart, don't you think you're a little young to be accepting proposals?" asked her mother good-naturedly. The girl smiled and shook her head.

"Mama, will you make me a blue blanket? I think it's my new favorite color," she asked, thinking of the boy's eyes, fiddling with her new ring.

Ah, young love. Well, she'll learn soon enough.


	6. Dinner Rush

Usual Disclaimer.

Chapter Title: _Dinner Rush_

Dinner Rush

Moira was staring off into space in the booth at Tibby's next to Race and across from Jack and Blink, pretending to listen to their conversation and trying to maintain an interested smile as she nodded and laughed where she was figuring would be appropriate. In reality, her stomach was tied in knots, and her mind was reeling from her introduction to Spot. "_I shouldn't have doubted Jack. That boy was an idiot_," she thought, pushing confidence into herself. Any guilt she had was gone from his rudeness at Irving Hall. He was supposed to be coming into the restaurant soon, so Moira pulled out her compact like she had that morning, to check her appearance. She had changed back into her white dress, and kept her hair pinned up the same.

"Don't worry, you look fine, and a good job you did shutting him up at the theatre," Race reassured her. They were becoming pretty fast friends, though Moira was sure there was something more, at least on Race's part. Race had actually convinced Jack that until Moira was officially with Spot, Race would flirt with her to make Spot jealous. And quite eagerly, too.

At the next opening of the door, in walked Spot, with Bricks and Mickey at either of his sides. As they entered, the whole place got quiet for a second, and then went back to normal. Moira's heart was beating faster, and she felt oddly eager to start the show, watching him with a haughty look on her face. He returned her stare in the same manner, and she cracked a triumphant smile. The Brooklyn boys walked towards their table, and Bricks reached it first.

"Miss Moira, how nice to see you," he said amiably, taking the seat next to her. Spot stood in front of him and gave him a cold look. Moira caught it and shivered, with an intriguing emotion caught between fascination and fright. Bricks got up swiftly to allow Spot to take his place.

"We meet again, Scarlett," Spot said with a playful smile on his lips. There was something about that name he really liked, but he wasn't sure what exactly. Moira gazed at him thoughtfully, wondering what his lips against hers would feel like, then blinked and smiled irresistibly.

"Why are you surprised? I thought you said you were coming...you know, _after_ I said I was," she teased him tantalizingly. He grinned at her. This girl had a personality that didn't involve just endless giggling, like all those other girls.

"Here, let me move in," she offered, squeezing a little closer to Race. Spot moved in, very close, and Moira closed the gap by moving back over a bit. Then everyone started talking. As it turned out, Mickey and Blink were brothers, and particularly, brothers who loved a little rivalry on who had had the craziest night most recently. Fortunately for Spot, the conversation quickly drew in Racetrack and Jack, and it was too easy to strike up a private conversation with Moira that the others were too busy having a pissing contest to notice.

"So you live in Brooklyn," Spot started, tapping her gently on the arm. Moira turned to him, slightly batting her eyes once or twice, nodding with a smile caught between innocence and a smirk. Spot's own grin turned crooked. Maybe it was a took one to know one deal, but one thing this lady was not was innocent, he was certain.

"Yeah, I do. Not much of a place if you're counting for scenery, but the rent sure beats the hell out of anything over the bridge," she answered. Spot quirked a brow.

"No scenery? Where you hanging around, sister? Brooklyn has got some of the most beautiful sights in all of New York."

"Really? Perhaps I'm not looking in the right places..."

"Maybe you just need the right tour guide...I'd be happy to volunteer to show you around. Although, now that I know of your residence there, all you need to look for is a mirror," he offered smoothly, slowly grazing the inside of her bare forearm with the tips of his fingers.

Moira giggled. Okay, she had to admit, that one...okay, it wasn't great. But it was funny, and he was definitely on track with the way he was touching her arm--shit. She was _not_, not in the least supposed to be allowing _him_ to work _her._ She straightened up and withdrew her arm.

"I don't know...Spot, right? I bet you're awfully busy, what with your businesses and everything," she said sweetly. His slight drop in his smirk did not escape Moira's eye.

"Well doll, I only sell the morning edition...I do well enough that I only sell the evening when I'm bored," he boasted. "For most part of my days are free...and especially my nights," he added meaningfully.

"I guess that works out great for whatever other...propositions that come along," she teased. Spot licked his lips while studying her face, locking finally on her eyes.

"And I would love to show you first hand how well it does," he replied, his tone growing husky as he bent his head closer to hers. With his face close enough to her that he couldn't see hers, Moira turned away. She could feel her cheeks heating and didn't like the idea of him seeing proof of her playing into his little games. She would not, could not, be his "doll."

Salvation came in the shape of Jack, noting the distressed look in Moira's eyes the way only he could after knowing her for so long.

"So Spot, what did you think about it?" he asked Spot, drawing Spot's focus away from Moira and into the conversation.

"What I think?" Spot said, darting his gaze away from Moira to answer the question. He thought fast.

"I dunno, what did _you_ think, Moira?" he asked her innocently. She gave him a quick dirty look.

"I dunno either. I haven't been reading the papers lately, so..." she trailed off, smoothly as she could manage. Jack looked down at the table, hiding his laughter.

"Uh, we're was talking 'bout your performance, Moira," Race snickered. Everyone else started smirking too, as Spot and Moira turned identical shades of Moira's middle name. Race yawned.

"Well I got me an early morning tomorrow, so I'm gonna get back to the lodging house," he said.

"Yeah, we'd better start out too, Moira; you're not walking back to Brooklyn this late by yourself," Jack said, prompting Moira for what they rehearsed coming here.

"Jack, I'm gonna be okay. You don't have to walk me, honest. You go back to the lodging house with Race; you boys gotta get up early tomorrow," said Moira reasonably, as Jack told her to be. "In fact, the Brooklyn boys are probably going my way; I could probably walk part way with them, right?" She held her breath as she glanced at Mickey, Bricks, and finally Spot, waiting to see if Spot would take the bait.

"Where's your apartment building?" Spot asked.

"It's about eight blocks east from the Brooklyn Bridge...O'Clarke's Boarding House, on the corner of Emon and Henry?" Moira answered, looking at him with those big green-gray eyes. "Do you think you could, Spot? Just to spare Jack the trouble? Please?" Her expression was helpless, and Spot cursed himself as he began to give in. He was always a sucker for the ones with the pretty faces. "_Dammit_," he argued with his conscience, "_Don't you do this to me. I ain't walking this broad home_. " Her lower lips began to tremble ever so slightly.

"Yeah, I can walk ya back. It's not too far outta my way," Spot offered reluctantly. Moira beamed.

"Gee Spot, thanks. I really owe ya one," said Jack, trying to contain his smirk. Everyone stood up and went outside.

"We'll see ya tomorrow, Moira," said Jack, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "You did good tonight, sweetheart."

"Later, Moira," said Blink, giving her a friendly one-armed hug.

"I don't know which is the best, your voice, your looks, or your personality," smiled Race, making sure Spot saw him kiss her on the cheek as he had his arm around Moira's shoulder. Spot noticed all right. When Race pulled away, Spot was standing right beside them, his brows narrowed slightly, his eyes cold. Moira shivered. He turned his gaze on Moira and it softened playfully. He offered his arm out to her.

"Miss O'Flaherty, your escort," he said. Jack, Blink and Race left in the direction of their lodging house, and Moira, Spot, Bricks and Mickey left in the other direction towards Brooklyn.

Jack took one glance behind. Why did he suddenly feel like he was throwing his adopted kid sister to the lions?


	7. More That You Try, the Harder I Fight

Usual Disclaimer

Chapter title: "I Do Not Hook Up" Kelly Clarkson

More that You Try, the Harder I'll Fight

"Well boys, I'll meet ya later at the lodging house," said Spot, and he and Moira turned towards her apartment building and they left for the lodging house.

"So, how long has you lived in Brooklyn that I haven't known about ya?" said Spot pulling, closer by her waist as they walked along. She smiled at him. Okay, maybe he just needed to lose the audience to lose his cliched playboy behavior.

"For almost ten years," she said. "I moved here from Ireland when I was seven."

"I see. So you not exactly so new here?"

"No. I know Brooklyn pretty well now. Took me a while though. Used to get lost all the time when I was a kid," she laughed. Spot looked at her quizzically. "_I_ know _I know what she talking about_," he swore to himself. He shook his head. He was going crazy.

"Have you lived here all your life?" she asked him.

"No actually, I'm a fellow Irish kid. Best genes between the two of us if anyone ever wanted the perfect kid. He'd be full Irish, and with my looks, and you're not half-bad either..." he teased her, tickling her. She laughed, and held up her left hand.

"Not 'til there's a ring on this hand. And you're gonna have to do it the old-fashioned way," she said audaciously.

"What, marry you?" asked Spot skeptically. She looked sideways away from him, half-smiling.

"Oh yeah, that too," she said as though marriage was an afterthought. Spot looked at her as she looked back, finally being able to give him the devilish smile, and he gave her a short laugh.

"For a girl, you ain't half-bad," he said.

"Sweetheart, I ain't _bad_ at all," she teased again.

"Nah, I'm being serious. Most girls I've given that line to just get embarrassed; you're pretty original, Scarlett," he teased her back.

"Oh I see, I'm not the only one, am I?" she joked, pretening to swoon and pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. They were rounding the corner by her apartment building.

"No, you're not...but you could be," Spot said quietly, turning his stare on her that usually melted girls. Paired with that line, he was sure he'd see some sign of her seriously swooning, skipping a breath, something. She just shrugged, and rolled her eyes. What an ice queen. At least he knew for sure he couldn't love this dame.

"What?" asked Moira, turning serious and pretending she had no clue why he was staring at her. First of all, she wouldn't have given in to a cheesy line like that, even if she was interested in Spot in a manner that did not include trying to break his heart. Secondly...well...she was just not going to fall for it that easily.

"Nothing."

"_Damn_," she thought. "_Heartless bastard. And I'm gonna have to spend _all _my time with him_..." They walked up to the door, and Moira jumped up on the first step. She cocked her head at him.

"You wanna come inside?"

"Yeah, okay," the look of aloofness slipped away from Spot's eyes, and the impish smile Moira was getting used to came to his face. They walked into the building.

"You gotta be quiet, 'cause if I get yelled at one more time for too much noise at this hour, I'm gonna get kicked out," whispered Moira, pulling Spot close to her. She grinned as Spot raised his eyebrows at her, obviously surprised, though a little smile came to his face.

"_Okay. She can't be _too_ bad. Maybe tonight won't be a collosal waste of time..._"

They went up to the fifth and top floor, where Moira's apartment was. A young man of about twenty-two with black hair and equally dark eyes was leaning against his apartment's doorframe, which was across the hall from Moira's. Moira fumbled in her purse for her keys.

"Hey, Moira, how're you doing," he grinned a devilish smile like Spot did, but this man's was almost nasty, not playful. The guy stared her up and down, and Spot narrowed his brows.

"I'm fine, Mr. Divelio," Moira answered shortly, and holding onto her arm, Spot could tell she was getting very tense. Spot pulled her closer to him for reassurance. He was pretty sure he could soak this guy if he needed to, and Spot didn't like the looks he was giving Moira. He was looking at her the way a wolf looked at a lamb, and Spot got angrier by the second. Womanizer he might be, but he never did anything a girl didn't want to do. This guy looked like he wouldn't have a problem crossing the line.

"You don't have to be so formal, Moira; call me Lucio," he said, and then he noticed Spot pulling her back again. Lucio narrowed his eyes for a second. "Who's your 'friend', Moira?" he asked. Spot pulled Moira close again.

"I'm her boyfriend, Spot Conlon," he stated matter of factly, as if he really was her boyfriend. Moira glanced up at him, and Spot, looking down at her, decided to prove his point to Divelio. He kissed Moira fiercely. Moira was shocked, but she responded to his kiss to make it look believable. And of course, for experimental research. As Spot pulled away from her, he gave Divelio a look that said "So there!" very plainly. Moira could barely hold in her laughter. Males and territory marking. He just better not pee on her.

"Well, if you will excuse us, we've got...unfinished business in there," Spot said with a mischievous tone as Moira opened the door. She put one arm around his back, and the rested her other hand on his chest. Spot unexpectedly picked her up into his arms, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She giggled on cue, and they went inside her apartment, closing the door behind them. Outside, Divelio narrowed his brow again, and a hint of the treacherous smile played upon his lips again.

"Heh, heh, heh...we'll see, Mr. Conlon, we'll see how long you keep her," he sneered, going in his own apartment.

Spot placed Moira carefully down. He smiled at her knowingly, wondering how she would act after they'd kissed. He was glad she couldn't read his mind, because he was acting like such a girl about that kiss. Was this going to lead to something? Was she going to back off now that he made a move? Had she been bluffing with the whole risqué woman persona? She _was_ a good kisser. That _had_ to be a result of practice, right? He smiled. He wanted more, but he wasn't just going to take it. Spot wanted it to be a mutual thing sort of, and he didn't know how to go about it, because he never had trouble interpreting a girl's thoughts, and if he had, it was too long ago to count. But Moira didn't return his smile, she didn't even look at him.

Moira walked over to the window, staring out quietly at the Brooklyn docks...it had been so long ago...she shook her head. Moira had never given up hope, in her own stubborn, hopeful way. She touched the chain around her neck.

"Thanks for helping me out there. I really appreciate it," Moira said quietly.

"Hey, if that's one way to help you out, then a friend in need is a friend indeed," he joked. When she didn't answer or turn around, Spot walked over to her, put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face him. Moira's eyes got large.

"That ain't the first time he's talked to you like that, or worse, was it?" he asked her seriously, his eyes gray and soft. She looked away.

"Moira, answer me, please," Spot said calmly, joking aside now. Maybe he wasn't being honest with her, and maybe she was putting on an act with him to, but Jesus, she was just a kid, really. She turned those big green-gray eyes on him again, and he blinked and cleared his throat. She lowered her eyes.

"No." There was a tone of shame in her voice, and she hoped it'd insinuated enough for him so she wouldn't have to outrightly lie. He pulled her into a warm embrace, which somewhat surprised her.

"Hey now…it's not your fault you're beautiful, Scarlett...if that lousy bum talks to you again, you tell me and I'll soak him. He ain't got no right to talk to you like that," he said softly, but she could hear the anger in his voice. Spot rubbed her back, something similar to annoyance overcoming her. Where did have room to talk , when he'd spoken in the same way to her tonight, and probably other girls his whole life? Well, here was her chance to teach him a thing or two. She turned on the waterworks.

Spot was distracted from his thoughts as Moira looked up at him. "_Damn, damn, damn. She's crying_," he thought, aggravated. There was only one way to avoid comforting her more, and that was distracting her, plus an opportunity to use her vulnerability to keep his hands and mouth busy. Kissing one cheek and then the other, her tears were gone on his lips. Moira smiled up at him, and put her arms around his neck. He rubbed her arms with his hands, and thoughtfully tilted his head.

"Yeah, these are pretty 'silky caresses,'" he joked softly. Spot put his arms around her back and pulled her closer. Their faces were an inch apart. Moira lowered her eyes. Spot bent his head and kissed her, softly at first, then a little more hotly. He kissed her a few more times, and then Moira rested her head on his chest, where his shirt was unbuttoned, and shifted her head, because she had bumped it on something metallic-feeling.

Moira was irate. She hadn't kissed anyone who was that good at kissing, and her past experiences didn't seem half as fun now. The fact that she was not going to be able to stay with him was the only thing nagging her. She didn't know what was wrong with her. "_This is just physical attraction. It's gonna take hard work to make him love you, and you're not gonna get physically attached, either. Remember, you have to break his heart, not the other way around_," she thought angrily to herself. "_Spot can have any girl he wants anyway, so there's a slim shot of hooking him_," she added doubtfully. But what he had said to her...it wasn't her fault she was beautiful, how'd he'd beat up Lucio...it was really sweet. None of her boyfriends really cared that much about her. The only guy who'd looked out for her had been Jack. "_But I've got myself. I don't need anyone else taking care of me_," she told herself determinedly. Nor did she ever want to fall into the position of having to, either.

Spot rested his head on hers, smiling. He'd win this bet for sure. The only thing was, what would happen if he got her, and the month was up...? He'd have to break up with her, and what if...? No. He wouldn't do something stupid like that. He'd only just met her anyway. "_Take this a step at a time, Conlon, or you'll be sorry_," he warned himself. "_You're the Unbreakable Spot Conlon. So don't get broke_." He felt a tear on his chest, and he forgot everything he'd been thinking about.

"Aw, Scarlett, don't cry. It's all gonna be alright. I promise," he whispered, thinking she was still crying about her neighbor problem. He thought about what he felt. "It'll work out," he said again, somewhat to console himself as well. He brushed her hair out of her face.

"I should get back to the lodging house, but maybe I'll see you tomorrow," he added. Moira walked him over to the door. Spot stood right outside in the as she leaned against the door. He gave her his little smile again.

"Do I get another 'velvet kiss', seeing as you're my girl?" asked Spot. Moira grinned at him, and without waiting for her permission, Spot grabbed her face and he kissed her. She could almost feel him grinning as she kissed him. "_He thinks he's winning me over. Nah, not this time Spotty-boy_," Moira thought smugly. She pulled away a little, but he grabbed her back kissing her again. "_Well, not quite..." _Although, thinking about it, she had enjoyed the whole cat-and-mouse antics...why not prolong it a little?

Spot, meanwhile, was thinking only about the next time he would see her. He hadn't expected this to be so easy. Moira pulled away.

"Now wait a minute...who said I was your girl?" she asked saucily. Spot grabbed her around the waist.

"When I tell you, you will," he said, pretending to be stern. She slid out of his grasp.

"Guess I'll have to see you tomorrow...if you ask me nicely, maybe I'll consider the position...I'm going to sleep now, g'nite," she laughed as she winked, then quickly closed the door. Spot turned and left, a big smile on his face. He was sure he almost had this girl. Just as send him to the loony bin first, with all her crazy mood swings.

* * *

"Well, Spot, where have _you_ been," snickered Mickey as Spot walked into the lodging house a half hour later. Spot grinned at him.

"Saying goodnight," he said mischievously.

"Pretty good, Spot, pretty good. She your girl yet?" asked Bricks expectantly.

"Well...not quite. I'm…feeling things out, you might say," Spot improvised evenly.

"Is that right? That girl was quite extraordinary, you sure you can handle her?" Mickey asked smugly.

"Please, don't insult me! And oh yes, she is quite...incredible," laughed Spot, in a way that implied something happened that was more than what did happen.

"What _did_ you do there?" asked Mickey incredulously.

"We're not going into that. I'm going to bed." Spot left them there, to go to his private room, leaving them to watch his retreating back.

"They didn't do nothing," said Bricks, under his breath. "I saw the way he watched Moira. He's gonna get it bad for this one, I promise you."

"Yeah, right, this is Spot we're talking 'bout, Bricks. He don't mean nothing by his looks."


	8. In the City, On the Street

Usual Disclaimer.

Chapter Title: "Mr. Blue Sky," ELO

In the City, On the Street

Moira woke up the next morning, the sunlight glinting in on her. Laying in bed until her eyes adjusted to the light, her mind flashed back to the night before, and before she could stop it, her heart was suddenly picking up pace. Moira sighed. She was already tired of Spot and his uncanny ability to make her second guess her every move, and sorry she'd struck the deal with Jack. She liked her privacy, she liked being alone, and she didn't want Spot around, fake boyfriend or not. She could only hope he wasn't interested in putting in the effort.

Stretching, Moira dragged herself out of bed, put on her corset and slip, and walked over to her window by the fire escape to let in the warm May breeze. She gasped. Through the lace curtains was Spot, perched on the rail of the fire escape as though this was morning routine.

"Good morning, gorgeous," he smirked, flicking his eyes up and down her body. Although used to being scantily clad at work, and often only in skivvies around the costume tailors, Moira was a bit annoyed he had no consideration towards her modesty.

"Spot Conlon, how dare you come see me when I'm not ready to be seen!" she scolded mockingly.

"You know you're always ready to be seen," he said softly, pushing a few stray strands of hair of her face. "Are you gonna let me stand out on this fire escape all day, or can I come in?" he teased. She stepped back away from the window, and he climbed in. Spot touched her cheek, his hand flinching for a second, and then resting there, just staring at her. Moira blushed, but it was more of an effect from trying to keep from laughing at his overdone attempt to seem sweet and romantic.

"Scarlett, again, I see," he said playfully.

"Spot, I gotta get ready. Aren't you gonna sell today?" she asked, quickly becoming annoyed, and in a hurry.

"Yeah, but I figured I'd come see you, like I said I would." Spot tried to keep his voice from faltering, but her tone threw him for a loop. Turning her back, Moira smirked.

"Why don't you meet me for lunch at Tibby's?"

"Yeah sure," he agreed distractedly, watching her apply makeup and barely pay him any attention. Well, at least he'd stay in shape, chasing after her. She flitted back over to him, smiled, and threw her arms around his neck.

"You're so sweet," she glowed at him. He pulled her close with one arm and kissed her. When he pulled back, Moira turned to go to her closet and get dressed. Spot narrowed his brows with a pout on his face. It was strange to see her in clothes that any other girl would wear. He preferred to see her in her corset and slip, or that costume from last night, because besides the obvious reasons, it made her less of a person to him, more of some lustful angel of his imagination. This dress, simple, sky blue, edged with white lace...it turned her into an innocent girl, sweet and young. And worthy of something more than a pawn in some bet.

"What's wrong? Don't you like my dress?" she joked. Ironic how she was able to hit the nail on the head. If only she knew.

"No kiss?" he asked pointedly.

"Aw, poor baby didn't get a kiss back...well, I guess I'm just gonna have to fix that, huh," she laughed, pulling his arms around her, and pulling him close around his waist. She gave him a peck on the cheek, laughing to herself.

"Now c'mon, I have to go to work, and so do you."

"Moira, I gotta talk to you about something, first," said Spot cautiously.

"What?" Moira held her breath, thinking he would ask her out. There would be no backing out then.

"That guy, Lucio Divelio or whatever, I don't likes the looks of him...I'm thinking you should talk to Jack. Maybe get a new apartment, or live with him in the Manhattan Lodging house. You don't need anything more happening to you than him talking to you; there's something 'bout him I don't trust--and well--"

"Spot, are you trying to tell me you care about me? Or...no! You wouldn't be jealous, would you?" giggled Moira, trying to sound cynical but feeling smug, her hands on her hips.

He sneered at her and annoyance rose in her chest.

"The Leader of Brooklyn ain't jealous of no one! I ain't got no reason to be," he smirked. He was disappointed. She'd giggled...since when did she giggle? Maybe she wasn't that different after all. Spot turned away. "I would just hate to see anything happen to someone who gives this city another beautiful view." Moira sat at her vanity, ignoring him, and finished her hair, ignoring Spot and his attempts to make conversation, until finally he came over and took the brush right out of her hand.

"Hey! I wasn't finished," Moira protested.

"You are now."

"You're not the boss of _me_, pal. Unhand me!" But Spot kept a tight grip on her shoulders and led her out of the bedroom.

"C'mon, we should get to work. I'll meet ya at Tibby's at twelve," Spot said in a tightened voice, pulling her out the door. He noticed Divelio coming out, and stopped as they closed the door. Spot put his arm tightly around Moira's waist, and kissed her hotly.

"I gotta tell ya, Scarlett, I love waking up to your beautiful face," he said suggestively. He kissed her again.

"Oh, did you have a good night's sleep?" asked Divelio, irritated.

"We wouldn't know, we didn't sleep," said Spot devilishly, kissing Moira again, on the neck this time. "C'mon, honey, we should get going." They turned for the stairs, and Spot cast one last dirty look at Divelio before they were out of sight. As they were a little ways down the block, Moira slapped his arm.

"'Ey! What is that for?" asked Spot, rubbing his arm.

"_We_ didn't sleep? Waking up to _my_ beautiful face?" Moira reminded him pointedly. Spot grinned sheepishly.

"Hey, I'm just trying ta help ya out. If he thinks you got a boyfriend, he's gonna leave ya alone, especially if he thinks that Spot Conlon is the boyfriend," Spot told her, with his ego backing him up. Moira rolled her eyes.

"I can handle him myself. It's no big deal," she said, watching the ground. Spot held her hand.

"That's not why's you were crying then last night?" asked Spot quietly.

"I don't wanna talk about last night. You were different then you've been acting since this morning," Moira said coldly.

"Moira, what are you talking about?" Spot asked defensively. "I just kissed you. I didn't propose or nothing," he said complacently.

"I'm sorry, Spot. I thought you were different from all the other guys, but I guess I'm wrong as usual. Goodbye," she said, trying to sound dispirited. Moira turned and left him at the corner, and he called after her.

"Moira Scarlett O'Flaherty! You get yourself back here!" As he watched her retreating back, hating to admit to himself that it _was _admirable, he yelled, "This isn't over!"


	9. I'll Stand, But I Ain't Coming

Usual Disclaimer

Chapter title: "Let Me Sign," Robert Pattinson

I'll Stand, But I Ain't Comin'

Moira walked into work that day, meeting up with Medda half-way to the dressing rooms.

"Hey honey!" said Medda, throwing an arm around Moira's shoulder as she fell into step with her. "You were great last night! Cigarette girl tonight, right?" she asked.

"Tonight? Cigarettes?" asked Moira absentmindedly, giving her a blank look. Medda looked at Moira in a surmising way.

"Okay, who is he?" laughed Medda with her hands on her hips.

"He's no one! I mean, there is no one," Moira said, flustered.

"Oh, so you think I didn't watch your performance? I saw you dancing with Jack's friend Spot! I also saw the way he was watching you, and _you_, watching him..." she said knowingly, smiling at Moira. Moira blushed.

"It's actually not what you think at all. I'm doing Jack a favor, and well, I shouldn't say, but...I'm supposed to get Spot to fall in love with me, then dump him, to bring down his ego a little..." said Moira, kind of shamefully, knowing it wasn't right.

"Well, I can't say Spot doesn't deserve it, but then I can't say he does...or anyone else deserves that for that matter. You know, your feelings are involved with this too," said Medda skeptically.

"And I could care less," Moira said. "I'm not an idiot, Medda. And definitely not one of _his_." Medda shook her head.

"I hope so, sweetie. Just so you know, I'll help you with anything you need, whatever it is," offered Medda.

"Okay, Medda. Thanks."

"Now go get ready for rehearsal!"

"Okay." Moira hurried off to the dressing room, and Medda watched her go.

"To be sixteen again," Medda sighed, continuing on her rounds.

* * *

Moira rushed down the street to Tibby's. She had five minutes to get there, and she was about ten minutes away.

"Extry, extry, Mayor caught with younger woman, wife isn't happy and is looking for a divorce--Hey!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I'm in a hurry--"

"Moira?" asked the young man she bumped into. Moira looked up at him, and realized it was Race. He grinned at her and helped her up. She looked at the headline on his newspaper as someone bought one from him. The headline read, "Mayor's Niece Visiting New York". She gave him a pointed look, and he grinned again.

"I gotta eat too, don't I?" he asked. She laughed, nodding.

"So why you rushing around Manhattan? The cops after you?" he joked.

"No, I'm just gonna be late meeting Spot for lunch," she told him. He nodded, and came closer and lowered his voice.

"You his girl yet?" he asked earnestly.

"Not yet."

"Then you ain't got no reason to run. You ain't the type of girl I expect would be at anyone's beck and call," he said, draping his arm around her casually. Moira snorted. She liked his way of thinking. They walked to Tibby's and saw Jack and Sarah having lunch. They waved them over. Moira wondered why Sarah and Jack were still together. They were from two different worlds, and unlike Davy and Les, Sarah didn't seem to fit in with the newsies and lately, nor did she try to get along with them. Sarah seemed like she wanted to change Jack to her preferences, and Moira knew it wouldn't work and was only a matter of time before he would let her go when he realized it. Jack leaned over to talk to Moira.

"So how did last night go?" he asked quietly.

"It went well. Spot should actually be here soon; he's supposed to meet me for lunch," Moira answered distractedly, glancing around the tiny restaurant. Damn it, she and Race had taken their time getting here; _they_ were ten minutes late. Where the hell was _he_?

And exactly, as though he could read her mind, Spot strolled leisurely through the door. Seeing Moira sitting beside Race, his brows narrowed. Race looked away and snickered.

"Told ya's so," he muttered to Moira. She tried to hide her smile, not sure if she was smiling because Spot showed up, or because Race was right about Spot being jealous. Spot walked over and Race got up.

"I'm done with my lunch, so I'm gonna get out there and start selling again. You gonna join me, Cowboy?" he said, turning to Jack. He nodded, both he and Sarah standing up.

"I better get back to the dress shop myself," Sarah mentioned.

"We'll walk ya...Moira, I'll talk to you later, all right?" Jack added.

"Okay Jack, later," she said.

"I'd love to come to your next concert," said Sarah, giving Moira a weak smile.

"I'll get you tickets," Moira returned the smile, knowing Sarah wouldn't go unless Jack begged her, and probably not even then. The last time she came, she looked like Little Bo Peep next to Moira.

Come to think of it, Sarah usually _did _look like Little Bo Peep, regardless of the occassion or person she was standing next to.

"Jack, before ya go, did Moira talk to you about a problem in her building?" asked Spot demandingly.

"No, what problem?" Jack asked, glancing sternly at Moira before turning to Spot.

"Tattletale," Moira hissed. Spot smirked triumphantly at her.

"Some guy in her building has been bothering her, making comments," he said. Moira narrowed her brows at Spot, talking about her like she wasn't even there, but he didn't look at her. Jack, however, glared at her.

"No, she didn't," he said shortly.

"Gee, Spot, I don't remember the last time you ever been protective of a _girl_," teased Race. Spot gave him a dirty look.

"Moira, we _will _talk about this later," Jack told her, as he, Sarah, and Race left got up to leave. Race leaned over to kiss Moira on the cheek. Spot glowered, and watched him leave.

"What's going on between you and Race, anyways?" Spot muttered, almost jealously, not realizing he sounded so.

"Nothing," Moira laughed as he sat down, sliding closer to her.

"And what, may I ask, is so funny?" he asked mockingly strict, casually placing his arm around her. She slid out from under it, and backed into the corner. Spot moved in closer.

"You. You can't decide what's going on, but anyways, maybe I should go pack my stuff together. I'm probably going to have to move out of Brooklyn because of your big mouth." She got up, waiting for him to move and let her out. Spot crossed his arms and remained seated.

"Yeah, well, you're not going anywhere right now," he said dominantly. Now Moira was just getting annoyed, and soon, she was going to lose her temper. How long was this supposed to last, again? This guy was asking for everything he got. She thought quickly.

"_No_, I'm leaving _now_, Spotty-boy," Moira said fast, then crawled over to the other side of the booth, and sliding out that side. Spot was watching her, surprised any girl would climb over a table, (and to escape him, too!) and at her audacity; no one, including many of the closest friends of the leader of Brooklyn had gotten away with calling him "Spotty-boy" without paying dearly for it, let alone some girl. Come to think of it, Spot didn't even tolerate Bricks or Mickey or even Jack calling him that. Moira left the restaurant, and Spot got up to follow her out. He would not tolerate this. He was not going to take this sitting down. He was not going to stand for this. He was going to take names, kick ass, and make this girl realize exactly who she was dealing with.

And she was already on the passing trolley, however, by the time he was outside. He sighed, and carried on selling his papers.

"Tomorrow. I'll talk to her 'bout it tomorrow," Spot muttered to himself.


	10. How Am I Supposed to Feel

Usual Disclaimer

Chapter title: "That's What You Get," Paramore

How Am I Supposed to Feel When You're Not Here?

"So Moira, is this Lucio guy a problem?" asked Jack, as Moira stood in the center of the empty parlor of the Manhattan Lodging House, gazing around. It was now Tuesday, three days since she had seen Spot at Tibby's. Three days since Moira had seen Spot at all.

"It's fine..." she trailed off, somewhat sullenly. Lucio barely registered in her mind; she was too preoccupied with that damn Conlon kid. How was she supposed to do her job if she didn't even see the guy?

"Look, Moira, if there's something that happened, you need to tell me about it so I can take care of it," he said Jack, seriously. Moira shook her head and turned to face him.

"There's not. Honest, I swear," she promised. "I'm just tired, and I haven't seen Spot. I don't want to let you down, but I don't think anything's going to happen with him. I sort of got in a fight with him last time I saw him, with you at Tibby's, and I haven't seen him since," she admitted. Jack looked relieved.

"Now, that, is nothing. Spot is probably so frustrated right now, he doesn't know which way to turn. Girls don't treat him like that. Bet you he's more interested in you than before," he said confidently. Moira played with her necklace, looking at the silver object on it. Jack tried to look closely at it to see what it was, but Moira saw him look at it and tucked it out of sight under her neckline, where it usually was. She wore it every day, but she refused to let him see it, ever since her accident when they were kids.

"Well Moira, I've gotta get back to work, I'll see ya tonight," Jack said. Moira nodded, walking out with Jack, and they stopped on the stoop outside.

"Oh yeah, one more thing, this Friday, we're having our weekly poker game, and you're welcome to come...all the Brooklyn newsies come too," he added slyly. Moira shook her head laughing.

"So you need me to...occupy Spot?" she said cynically.

"No, I need you to make him fall madly in love with you and then break his heart," he teased her.

"Could you quit saying it like that? You make it sound so...mean-spirited. You know Jack; this isn't too easy, not like it usually is. One minute he's soft and sweet, the next, he's stealing kisses and _then_, ignoring the fact that I exist. How do you deal with this?" she said irately. Jack patted her on the shoulder.

"He'll come around. I'm gonna talk to him today 'bout ya anyways, see how he's feeling. Spot and I are pretty good friends, I figure if he tells anyone, it'll be me," he told her positively.

"I hope so, Jacky, I need something," Moira said anxiously. She wasn't sure what she was going to do with herself, or Spot...oh well, Friday was only three days away.

How was she going to last this long?!

* * *

Jack walked into Brooklyn, muscles tightened and his face set blankly. It was the best way to enter Brooklyn, because the newsies there were pretty tough, and you didn't want to look at them the wrong way. About ten minutes later, he found Spot, selling papers at an Italian cafe.

"Hey Spotty-boy," smirked Jack, walking up to him, and spit-shaking.

"Don't call me Spotty-boy," he said, trying to hide the grin on his face, as he remembered the last person who called him that to his face. Lord, that girl was crazy...he shook his head.

"Why you smiling, Spot? You meet anyone...special?" asked Jack innocently.

"What do ya mean, special? Special like maybe they should go to the looney bin? Probably that Moira girl...or maybe she's just got an attitude problem," he half laughed, half sneered, knowing exactly what Jack was getting at.

"You like her, don'tcha?" said Jack knowingly.

"What would give you that idea?" asked Spot, cocking his head, squinting his eyes.

"Oh, not much, just the way you look at her, talk to her, flirt with her, gaze at her with unwavering attention," said Jack, ticking everything off on his fingers, laughing. Spot laughed too, and hit him jokingly.

"Watch it, Cowboy," he warned, not being serious.

"Maybe Moira should know," suggested Jack.

"Why would she need to think I like her Why would you wanna lead her on like that?" said Spot with an attitude.

"Cause you do! C'mon, you know ya can't hide it from me, your oldest and dearest pal, can ya Spotty-boy?" said Jack, laughing again. Spot gave him a sharp look.

"If anyone's telling anyone I like anyone, not saying I like Moira or nothing, it's gonna be me, got that, Jack?" Spot told him piercingly, getting up in his face as a warning. Jack knew when to back off when it came to Spot, and now, he knew, was the time. He held up his hands in surrender.

"Hey, okay, buddy. Well, I gotta get back to Manhattan, sell my papes, but, uh, just keep in mind..." Jack trailed off, making sure he had Spot's attention.

"What?" asked Spot, irritated.

"Race seems to like her. He's been chasing her around, sending her flowers...but you probably knew that, I mean you've seen her recently, right?" he grinned at Spot impishly.

"No, actually, I haven't. Believe it or not, Kelly, I have more important things to worry about than some crazy dame," Spot snapped. Race sent a girl flowers. Really?

"Oh yeah, don't forget the poker game Friday. You're coming, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the World!" said Spot, returning the grin. They spit-shook, each understanding the other, and left in their own separate ways.


End file.
